Those Lustrous Locks
by Plain Username
Summary: A meeting with an old acquaintance forces Severus Snape to rethink the position in his life.


**AN**: Bahahaha. I was going through all my documents on my computer and cleaning them up when I found this. I think I wrote this in 7th grade when I first found fanfiction but never posted it. How wonderful. I was such a freak when I was little. Oh boy.

**Disclaimer**: Heed, my words. I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, Herbal Essences, Makani, or Nair. Makes you wonder. *cackles*

* * *

Professor Severus Snape sat alone in his office, thinking over his life. Yes, he was used to all of the usual comments: greasy git, being the most common. Why must everyone consider calling him that? He wasn't greasy at all! It was just...his natural sheen, and there is nothing wrong with that. He had always thought of himself being the squeaky clean sex-god of Hogwarts. Snape leaned back in his chair and wondered how could he be a deliciously handsome sex-god if he has never gotten any?

Anyway, he reflected on how his life turned out the way it did. It was all because of teaching those insolent little brats of students how to mix ingredients together to make random potions. That and all of those completely irrelevant comments about his hygiene and his likeness to overgrown bats had messed up his life drastically. Snape sighed. This train of thought was always on his schedule right in between supper and grading those stupid essays. He wasn't really looking forward to putting "D's" on all of the student's papers, so he closed his eyes and slipped off into a deep slumber.

* * *

Snape entered the realm of his subconscious, only to realize that he was taking a stroll through the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't a stroll, really, but more of a stalk. He stared at a crow resting in one of the trees and desperately wanted it to die. It was just there, in all of its glory, soaking up the sun's rays. He was thinking of a way to kill (possibly light it on fire and watch it suffocate on its own fumes) when suddenly a twig snapped, sending him 10 feet into the air.

"Ah, Snivelly! Never thought you'd be so jumpy in your old age!"

Snape scowled for he hadn't heard that voice in over 18 years, but he still knew who it belonged to.

"POTTER! What the hell are you doing in my subconscious!?"

"Tsk, tsk, Snivellus. It isn't right to question the dead. I will answer your question, though, me being the thoughtful, caring person that I am." Snape made a noncommittal snort of disagreement. "What? You think that I'm not? I am merely here to reflect on your thoughts from earlier today. Let me tell you though, I never knew you were so bloody hilarious! I mean, 'deliciously handsome sex-god of Hogwarts'? Sort of funny seeing as the true sex-god is standing right before you."

"Merlin, Potter. Even after you've died, you haven't seemed to lose your arrogance," Snape replied with a sneer.

"You know it's all for you, Snivelly!" James flashed his ever famous, cheeky grin while batting his eyelashes. "Gross. I think some bile came up into my mouth. Note to self: Never bat eyes at Snivelly."

"Can you get on the reason you're here?" Snape said, ignoring the comment.

"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a bunch! Don't look at me like that 'cause you know it's true. Anyway, you've been wondering about the derogatory comments made towards you, and you can't seem to figure out why they are like that. Am I correct?"

"Correct," Snape mumbled, nearly incomprehensible to make out.

James put a hand on Snape's shoulder, but the latter immediately tried to brush the hand away. James merely kept his hand there and started leading him towards the lake. The giant squid was happily waving its tentacle in the air and was trying to catch one of the demon crows. James and Snape finally came to the edge, and James took Snape's head and brought it next to the water so he could see his face.

"Okay, do you see anything that could be improved somehow?" James looked at the professor as if he already knew the answer.

"No, I look perfectly fine," Snape snapped.

"Well, I see one thing that could be improved," James sung in a sing song voice. "Do have any idea why they call you a _greasy_ git?" He plowed forward.

"No."

"Well, it's because you look like you dumped your head in a vat of lard, silly!" James added a playful shove to Snape's arm but quickly drew it back. "EWW! Snivelly germs!"

Snape simply scowled. "You would think that if you had died, you would've become more mature."

"Anyways," James started, ignoring the comment about his level of maturity, "think about the word 'greasy'. What could be related to that?" He put on a mock thoughtful face. "Could it be connected with thy tresses that shine with the death glares in thy eyes? Yes, I think so. Snape," Severus looked completely shocked with the use of his real name instead of Snivellus or Snivelly. "What you need to do is," He gave a significant pause, "wash your hair."

Snape gave an indignant look. "I indeed wash my hair!"

James knew better though, "When?" he asked with a smirk.

An incomprehensible mumble was heard.

"What was that?"

"Two weeks ago."

"EWW!"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Snape questioned.

"Wash your hair with _Herbal Essences Body Envy _to get that lift and shine that everyone wants." James put on a cheesy smile that could rival the commercials.

"Why do I have the feeling that you got these hair tips from somewhere other than a television?"

"A what?" James tilted his head to the side like a puppy lost in confusion.

"Never mind. How do you know all of this though?"

"When you've hung around with Sirius as long as I have, his hair advice seems to rub off on you."

"Okay..." Snape wasn't sure if he needed to know that.

"Ah, Snivelly, I think that my job is done here. I have to get back before Lily gets my head. Buh-bye!" Before Snape could register what James had said, He was felt as if he was being thrown into the lake.

* * *

A couple of seconds later, Snape found himself being rudely awakened by a house elf by the name of Dobby. Merlin, when will these god-forsaken house elves ever learn some manners? His eyes snapped open and glared at the imbecile elf before him. Snape was glad to see that the elf shrunk back a couple of centimeters.

"Master Snape, sir, I is to tell you that breakfast is being served in 30 minutes."

Grumbling, Snape swung his legs out of the chair he had been sleeping in for the past...8 HOURS? He didn't grade the inane essays and the only thing that made the situation a bit better was that he didn't have any classes the first two periods. He had been passing many students along the corridors and noticed that a couple of people were snickering. Had they been laughing at him? Had the arrogant fool been right? He decided to let out his anger at some small Gryffindor first year that had chosen an ill time to be smiling and holding in his laughter.

"What, pray tell, is so funny that you had the right mind to snicker?!" Snape was almost positive that he saw some of his own spit spray onto the boy's face. His rage had knocked the kid down on his bottom.

The boy cowered below him and mumbled something incoherently. "What did you say?" Snape asked – more like yelled – at him.

The boy didn't appear to be able to hold back his answer much longer. Snape was hoping that his yelling would send the kid to the Hospital Wing. Even back to the mundane common room that the Gryffindors seem to call home would be a fine enough reaction. The sound of laughter took his train of thought of that particular track. He wasn't expecting the kid to laugh!

"Holy crap! I heard what the others said about you, but I didn't realize how much they were off by! They said you looked like a greasy overgrown bat, but I disagree. I think you _are_ a greasy overgrown bat!" The boy clutched his side doubling over in mirth.

"DETENTION! MY OFFICE – 8 O'CLOCK, TONIGHT!" He wouldn't take this anymore. He had to change the dense ways of Hogwarts. Pfft...They won't see it coming. Hogwarts was in for the biggest change of the century.

* * *

Harry Potter was paying absolutely no attention to all of the shit coming out of Hermione's mouth. For Merlin's sake! Has she ever heard of the phrase 'shut up?' Frankly, he didn't care about the friggin' O.W.L.'s. He was probably going to be dead before his 17th birthday, so who cares? Dear old Voldy-poo and his Death Munchers were probably going to try to do him in –_again_– this year.

"Honestly, Ron, are you ever going to realize that our O.W.L.'s are paramount in the progression of our careers leading to the ascendance in our developing finesse of magic? It will judge our skills and determine what classes we will take next year. Not to mention that the classes will be generally more advanced and will take an immense amount of concentration and work to pass our N.E.W.T.'s."

Harry had to roll his eyes at that. Ron was sporting an expression that was rather close to a brainless pigeon. Hermione had been nagging both of them about revising and such, but they couldn't care less.

"And, Harry, shouldn't you be practicing and studying as much as you can if you ever want to defeat Voldemort. Oh, get over it, Ron." Hermione sighed and went back to the large textbook she was reading, not even paying attention to what she was eating.

"Why does it matter, Hermione? I'll never be able to beat him. I'm just a fifteen-year-old kid who has the Delirious Uber-Bitch for a DADA professor."

Just then, an unusually chipper Ginny Weasley slipped into the seat next to Harry. "Hi, Harry! I thought it was you with all of your emo-bitchiness filtering through the halls!"

"Stuff it, Ginny. I wouldn't be so hypocritical. You're pretty bitchy yourself. You know what, I would rather like it if you would shove yourself down a..." the rest was promptly cut off by a quick stupefy to Harry's head.

"MS. WEASLEY! I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A DISPLAY OF RUDE, IRRESPONIBLE-" Professor McGonagall's rant was stopped by the doors of the Great Hall bursting open with a blinding white light.

A man in sweeping black robes sauntered into the hall, his hood obscuring his face. The brim was then pushed back and neither the students nor the professors could be prepared for what lay beneath. The ebony hair was flipped back with an elegant grace and looked to be the softest, silkiest, hair that has ever graced the presence of Hogwarts. Not even Sirius Black's hair could compare.

The strangest thing was that the man has a prominent hooked nose and cold, gleaming, black eyes.

The students then became of who this odd man was.

"HOLY SHITE! IS THAT SNAPE?" Ron's voice bellowed, breaking the complete silence. Hermione didn't even bother to reprimand Ron about his language or his reluctance to use Professor Snape's complete title.

"What the bloody hell was that for, Ginny?" Harry asked after he regained consciousness. He hadn't opened his eyes yet but _had_ noticed that the Great Hall was rather quiet. "And why is it so quiet? It's like somebody died or some..." Harry's sentence fell flat after he opened his eyes and became aware of the man standing above him.

"As much as we like having you around, Potter," Snape spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "We'd rather not hear your voice."

Harry had a close likeness to a fish and then quickly regained unconsciousness.

"I have had an encounter with the fates, and they have told me to come down to the Great Hall this evening," a misty voice was heard over the din of murmurs as the doors were flung open twice that evening. A mess of shawls and glittering beads hung over the figure. "They have told me that," she paused for dramatic silence, but soon her statement died in her throat as her voice lost its usual mistiness. "I want to have your babies," she said in a trance like state. She glided up to Snape and grabbed a fist full of the robes on his chest. Pulling him towards her, she brought her lips to his.

The hall was deadly silent at this occurrence. When they parted, the outbreak of nervous laughter and chatter was quickly cut off when the doors of the Great Hall, once again, burst open.

"DRACO! Where _is _she? Where did you hide her?" a cold voice echoed through the hall. The man in robes of elegant green sauntered into the hall. He flicked his blonde hair back so that he could glare at his son with cold, steel-gray eyes. "Tell me, Draco," he commanded.

Malfoy shrunk underneath his father's glare but still replied, "I don't know who you are talking about, Father," his voice betraying the fear he tried to hide.

"You know who I am talking about, Draco. That disgusting wench you call your mother. I know you've been hiding her from me!" Lucius yelled.

For the fourth time that evening, the Great Hall doors were pushed open. "I'm right here, Lucius," Narcissa Malfoy answered quietly. "What would you like to talk about, my dear?" Her voice was laced with such sickening sweetness that made everybody in the Great Hall almost gag.

"Oh, you _know_ what I want to talk about, Narcissa." He whipped out a sheet of parchment from a pocket within his robes. "Who is this 'Legolas' character? Why did he propose to you? This insubordination will not be tolerated! I will not have any _wife_ of mine be in contact with someone such as this."

Lucius then grabbed Narcissa's hand and yanked her out of the Great Hall with him, all the while muttering to himself, "Hmph. I'll show her shining, robust eyes, and long lustrous blond hair…"

Draco, watching this entire spectacle, did nothing but stare at the tumult his parents created. After recovering from the sock of having someone actually kiss him, Snape turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you could restrain your parents next time this happens—"

Before Snape could finish his reprimand, large ebony locks drifted to the floor. Surprised, Snape lifted his hand to his scalp, and immediately tensed upon feeling a bald spot. Letting out a girlish scream, he ran from the hall, black hair trailing him.

From the shadows, there was an evil snicker. Remus Lupin was holding a bottle of Nair Hair Removal Cream and clutching his side in mirth. Old Snivelly got what he deserved after letting his secret out.

**

* * *

AN2**: This is actually based off of a real story. Someone did this to somebody and was expelled. Oh, how I enjoy these strange occurrences.


End file.
